Brothers in Arms
by silverphyrbyrd
Summary: Starts thirty years ago to answer some questions how did the mice meet? Why doesn't Modo talk about his dad? Where are Throttle and Vinnie's families? And more... Final chapter up.
1. Chapter 1

Author's notes: Alright, one thing that occurred to me about BMFM is that there's actually quite a lot of unanswered questions about the guys and their history - like, when did they meet, and how? Do Vinnie and Throttle have any family, and what happened to Modo's immediate relations? What about Modo's wife? Yes, he was apparently supposed to be married - she was going to be introduced in series four. This story will hopefully answer these and maybe a few more questions. I'm keeping the timeline up until four years previous to present day - my rough estimate for the Once Upon a Time on Mars episodes is three years ago. Modo and Throttle would be about twenty, Vinnie would be eighteen and Harley a year younger, so they look about right. For the purposes of this, Stoker is fifty-four at the present day. You see him first aged twenty-four, and probably looking quite fine, too.

NB: Names of mice are mostly lifted from the Used Bike Guide. Go buy one, it helps. Names of Martian bikes are made up.

Endless thanks to Silver Winged Dragon for checking my facts for me - if there are any other major contradictions with canon now, I can either explain or be quite surprised.

BROTHERS IN ARMS

_Mars, thirty years ago_

'Intruder alert! West peremiter!' yelled the sentry, and the spotlight swivelled round to the approaching figure. But the stranger stopped, raised both hands and raised his face to the glare. He seemed to be having difficulty lifting his head.

Sergeant Serow lowered the telescope. 'I want an escort and a medic, we're going out there right now.'

'But sir-' began the sentry.

'But nothing. I am going to see with my own eyes if that's really Stoker.'

'Stoker?'

'Stoker!'

'_Stoker_!'

The word ran like wildfire around the camp and by the time Serow and his team were back everyone was buzzing with the news that Stoker, last heard of in the clutches of the infamous Dr Karbunkle, was home - alive! And in one piece! It was impossible!

When he came in, propped up between Corporal Scabbard and Flare the medic, there was a rousing cheer and the young mouse raised his head and smiled weakly.

'I'm home,' he murmured. 'Wunnerful.'

'Don't talk, Corporal Stoker,' said Flare. She raised her voice and said to the rest, 'No visitors till Ah say so, OK? He's had it bad.' There was a disappointed sigh, but Flare didn't relent, just turned Stoker to the nearest medibay. He gave no sign that he heard the murmur that rippled through the crowd, and then the door closed behind him.

'Alright, Sergeant, Ah'll take it from here,' said Flare, her voice allowing no argument. 'Ah'll report soon as there's something to report.'

Serow left. You didn't mess with the medics, especially one holding a syringe that size.

'What's that for?' said Stoker weakly.

'Local anaesthetic,' replied Flare. 'You need stitches. An' then you're dehydrated, malnourished an' exhausted an' you've lost a whole loada blood so Ah'm gonna give you a coupla drips an' leave you to go to sleep. An' you will go to sleep, boy - you can talk to your friends later.'

'Oh, man, I thought I'd escaped all the scientific fiddling.'

'This is all for your own good.'

'Yeah, he said that, too.'

Flare smiled. 'How 'bout "it's good to have you back. Welcome home"?'

Stoker managed a weak grin. 'Don't think he ever said that.'

'Well, welcome home, Stoke. Good to have you here. Now, let's have that arm...'

_Twenty-two years ago_

The first anyone heard of the stress in Flare and Trigger's marriage was when it shattered - loudly, dramatically and in public. The door of the family house fell open, releasing a cacophony of child's wails and Flare screaming at the top of her considerable lungs,

'-an' you didn't even have the decency to keep to your own species! If mah poor ole white-furred daddy had known Ah married a perverted, lyin', cheatin'-'

'Ah, shut up, you bitch,' yelled Trigger. 'If you'd only kept the standards up it wouldn't have happened, I-' He backed hastily into the street followed by a barrage of lazer fire.

'_Standards_?!' shrieked Flare. 'Ah give you a beautiful home an' two perfect children, you go off to a dirty rat whore an' then you talk to me 'bout _standards_?! Go back to your rat slut, you traitor, an' don't ya ever think you'll see the kids again.'

'But Momma...' wailed a voice from inside the house.

'Silver, go to your room, take Modo with you. Ah don't want no argument. Ah'll talk to you about this later.'

'Let me see my children!' shouted Trigger.

'So you can put your rat-lovin' evil in their heads?' yelled Flare. 'Over mah dead body. Get out. And don't think you're taking that bike!'

'_What_?! That's my bike, woman, I'll take it where I like.'

'So the rats can copy it? Ah don't think so.' Flare seemed to notice there were people watching for the first time, and caught the eye of a woman across the road. 'Hey, Powder - do me a favour an' go fetch Sergeant Serow. We c'n ask him if he thinks Trigger c'n take his bike with him to his rat slag.'

But Trigger had already gone, running out of the barracks on foot. Powder looked worriedly at Flare, who was still holding the blaster out in front of her with a trembling hand, her eyes glassy but just starting to crack.

'Flare?' she said. 'Honey, he's gone... Are you OK?'

Flare said nothing. The blaster started to shake, her lip trembled. Powder started to edge towards her, then someone said in her ear, 'Go and tell Serow. I'll deal with this.'

'Stoker?'

'The one and only. What are you waiting for? Move!'

Powder looked from Stoker's utter certainty to Flare's rapidly-diminishing self control, and ran. Stoker reached out slowly and turned the blaster towards the floor.

'Come on, Flare, there's no-one here you want to hurt with this thing. He's gone. Let it go. Thaaat's it.' Flare let go of the blaster and appeared to focus on Stoker for the first time.

'Stoker...' she whispered. 'Mah husband ran off with a _rat_...'

'I know, sweetie pie, I heard. You gave him what for all right. I'm proud of you, baby girl.'

'Don't call me that. Ah'm eight years older'n you.'

'Yeah, but right now, unless I'm much mistaken, you need babyin'. Come on, let's get you in off the street, this ain't no sideshow.' It said quite a lot for Flare's state of mind that she allowed Stoker to put an arm around her shoulders and lead her into the house. Normally she'd never have let him get so close. It said a lot for Stoker that he made no comment, just sat her down in the most comfortable chair he could see and started to make coffee.

'He actually _told_ me,' said Flare in tones that suggested she didn't quite believe what she was saying. 'He came in an' he told me that he'd found another woman an' then when Ah said Ah just wanted him to be happy an' asked who it was, he said he was glad Ah'd said that because it was a rat! A _rat_! Ah've been such a doormat. Ah should've shot him years ago.'

'Now, that's stupid, Flare,' said Stoker, handing her the cup. She took it and clung to it like a lifeline. 'If you'd done that you'd not have those lovely kids of yours.'

Flare looked up, haunted. 'Oh... they saw the whole thing... What on Mars'm Ah gonna tell 'em?'

Stoker shrugged. 'Tell them the truth. Silver's old enough to understand. She's a bright girl. I mean, sure, you could make something up if they were both Modo's age but they're not.'

'What, tell 'em daddy ran off with a rat? That's sick.'

'Yeah. It is. A good thing to teach 'em, I'd've thought.'

'Um.' Flare gazed at her coffee cup for a long time, then appeared to realise it was there and took a drink. 'Ah loved him, Stoker. Ah loved him _so _much. He's given me two lovely children and now Ah gotta tell 'em that their daddy is evil an' perverted an' they can never see him again. An' if there was a way for me to let him know about it, so he could have his heart broken into itty bitty pieces too, Ah'd do it.'

'Only natural, sweetie.'

'But he ain't gonna see me break. Never. Ah'm a gonna bring up the finest mice in the cosmos and Ah'm gonna do it without _him_.'

Stoker smiled. 'Attagirl.'

'Will you do me a favour?'

'Anything.'

'Get rid of his bike for me. See it goes to someone who deserves it.'

'It'll be a pleasure.'

'Momma?' Both mice looked round. The silvery-grey teenager peeking through the crack in the door looked frightened, and much too small to be holding the infant in her arms. Stoker stood up and took the baby from her.

'Heya, pet,' he said. 'How long've you been there?'

'Ah ain't been listening!' said Silver.

'OK, honey, I believe you.'

'Come here, darlin',' said Flare, holding out her arms. Silver ran to her and hugged her tightly.

'Momma, what happened to daddy? What was all that shoutin' about?'

Behind her, Stoker closed his eyes. Crunch time...

'Daddy's gone,' said Flare. 'He... he don't want us no more.'

'But momma, he said he wanted-'

'Silvie,' said Flare. 'Tell your momma what you know about rats.'

'Rats're dirty,' said Silver. 'Evil. Traitors to Mars.'

'That's right. An' people who hang out with rats don't get to hang out with real people, do they?'

''Course not. Everybody knows _that_.'

'Daddy decided he'd rather hang out with rats than with us. He said you might want a rat for a momma better'n me. You don't, do you?'

'Oh, momma, 'course not!' Silver sounded horrified.

'So now it's just you an' me an' baby Modo, an' Uncle Stoker's gonna take daddy's bike away 'cause people who hang out with rats don't get cool things like motorbikes.'

'Oh.' Silver sounded disappointed. 'But Ah like that bike.'

'Yeah, but you've got your own bike,' said Stoker. 'You don't want two. I mean, yeah, maybe you do, but you don't get 'em. That's greedy.'

A couple of hours later, when Silver and Modo were both in bed, Flare finally let the tears flow, crying silently into Stoker's shoulder while he stroked her hair and thought that if he had anything to do with it, Trigger's children would grow up to hate rats to the bottom of their souls.

CHAPTER TWO COMING SOON...


	2. Chapter 2

Author's notes: OK, this is being updated a couple of days early, mostly 'cause I'm bored and what the hell, it's Christmas. Where were we? Oh yeah - so, Stoker's thirty-three, Flare's forty-one, Modo's two. You realise I was up till half five in the morning writing this rebellion speech? While I think of it, I realise dates and ages will be different on Mars, but to paraphrase Terry Pratchett, sooner or later you just have to look up from the keyboard and say 'what the hell?'

Sewer Slider, Curious Fan, Silver Winged Dragon - thanks for the reviews, glad you're liking it, hope the standard remains high. Love y'all, merry Christmas and happy new year!

BROTHERS IN ARMS - PART TWO

_Twenty-one years ago_

'Another medic, over here, quick!'

'Diagnosis - blaster wound to chest and throat. Nasty. Hang in there, my man, we'll do our best. I want plasma, bandages, sutures, right now!'

'He's dropping!'

'Shit - stand back, initiating CPR.'

'...Still dropping!'

'He's gone, Chet.'

'...Damn. Call it.'

'Time of death 3.47pm. Medics Flare an' Machete.'

'Who was he?'

'His name was Corporal Ducat.'

'Wasn't he married?'

'Yeah. Three sons - Yammer, Throttle an' Pitch.'

'Hell. I know his wife. I'll have to tell Angel myself, she's going to take this _so _hard.'

_Twenty years ago_

Another battle, another raid, and once again far too many mice had not come back. Stoker and Scabbard led the return, Scabbard with his eyes fixed on the horizon, Stoker trying and failing not to look at the people who were desperately scanning the ranks for their own loved ones. One of the faces in the street, a pale girl in her late teens with a baby in her arms, cast her eyes over the much-diminished troops a couple of times, then impaled Stoker with the most accusing glare he'd encountered in years. Then she balanced the child on her hip and followed him. Stoker cursed under his breath. This one wasn't going to let him down easy.

He was right, of course. The girl was waiting for him when they broke ranks, still with the baleful glare.

'Hello, Ninja,' he said wearily.

'Where are they?' demanded Ninja.

'Oh, man, you cut right to the chase, don't you?'

'Of course I do, they're my _parents_! _Where_ are my mum and dad?'

Stoker considered the answer Scabbard would probably give, then he gave up and gave her the answer he felt was honest. 'I'm sorry, Ninja. We were set up. Scabbard doesn't think so but we were. Bowie and Blaze - they did their best. I'm so sorry. They were two of the best soldiers I ever knew. But we were set up. So many good soldiers died today.'

Ninja stared dully at the ground in silence. Then she looked at the baby she was carrying and impaled Stoker with another killer stare.

'Why didn't you _do_ anything?' she said. 'See this kid? I'm all he's got now. Because you didn't do anything.'

'What did you want me to do?' said Stoker hopelessly.

'Anything! Protest, mutiny, desert - _anything_! You know, if you hadn't been there yourself I'd say you were a murderer. But you were, so I guess you're just a coward.' Ninja scowled at Stoker, turned on her heel and stalked off.

'We couldn't have done anything,' said Scabbard from behind him. 'Orders are orders.'

'No,' said Stoker. 'She's right. We were set up and you know it. This army's taking orders direct from the stinkfish.'

'You don't believe that!'

'You believe the orders for today's raid came from a friendly place?' asked Stoker wearily. Suddenly he felt too old to be thirty-four.

'Whatever they were, they were orders and they had to be obeyed!' said Scabbard, and Stoker didn't feel old anymore, he felt angry.

'That attitude is gonna get us all killed!' he snapped.

'No, it's going to keep us alive!'

Stoker looked stunned. 'If you believe that you're an idiot.'

'At least I'm not an out-of-control idiot!'

'No, you're a predictable idiot, which is worse!'

'You're way out of line, Stoker!'

'Maybe I don't want to be in your lines anymore!' Both mice were shouting now, nose to nose. They appeared to realise this at the same moment, and carefully backed down.

'Desert, then,' said Scabbard quietly. 'And to hell with you.'

'I'll bet there's more than me will go if I do,' said Stoker.

'Good riddance,' said Scabbard as Stoker walked away.

'Stoker - Stoke, are y'all OK?' said Flare as he stamped past her into the mess hall, slamming the door back against the wall. His glare swept the room; if looks could kill everyone staring at him would have been in bodybags. A hundred pairs of eyes returned hastily to their meals.

'Stoke? Can you hear me?'

He appeared to register Flare's presence for the first time. 'No,' he muttered. 'No, I don't reckon I am OK. Do me a favour, Flare - I need to talk and I don't want to be court-marshalled. Get anyone you think'll listen and bring 'em to my place after check in.'

'What the hell-' began Flare, but Stoker had already gone.

Stoker surveyed the gathering, slightly taken aback. The room was crowded, all in all there were about sixty mice, of all ages. 'You know what, if we get found like this I'm gonna have a harder time telling a few people why I had a party and didn't invite them...'

'Yeah, get to the point,' said one of the mechanics. 'They're gonna miss me if I'm not back by next shift.'

'Everybody knows to keep schtum, right, Flash? I'm no good to anyone in the clink.'

'Sure, all tight, now get on with it.'

Stoker cleared his throat. 'Alright, then. Here we are at the end of a day in which a raiding party has gone out and less than a quarter come home - again! This is the third raid this month with such a devastating effect! We are being set up! We are being betrayed! We are being killed off! We have had it hard before but now our beloved government of Mars no longer care whether we live or die. They do not care that Mars will be strip-mined out of existence. All they care about is being in the stinking pay of those Plutarkians who we hate and fear so much. These are the mice who give our orders, and while we remain under Scabbard's command we will have to follow those orders, even to our deaths and the deaths of our children. I have seen too many plains wet with the blood of my friends and family. When I gave my life to this war I thought I would be fighting to keep them alive. It has been fifteen years, the war is not over but all my family are dead. My people hide in the caves and children know the feel of a weapon before they can run. Innocence is dead. Freedom is dying. Do you want to grow old as the last members of a dying race? We have a long fight ahead of us, my friends, I will not lie to you. There was always going to be a fight. But follow me and you can know you're on the right side. I don't fight for riches or prestige. I fight for freedom, and a bright and brilliant future for Mars, a Mars as lovely as it was before the Plutarkians came, a Mars for your children and your children's children. A free Mars for all of us.'

There was silence. Then someone started to clap, someone else joined in, then another and another until everyone was clapping. Normally Stoker would have revelled in applause, but now he just stood there, his face grim, till the noise died down. When he spoke he sounded as though he hadn't slept in years.

'No time like the present. Anyone not coming with me, leave now.' Nobody moved.

'How're we gonna do this, Stoke?' said Flash.

'We'll go to the Sentinel cavern to begin with. Sure, it needs a bit of work but it'll do till we can find a better place. We need... we need someone in the com room - Suzie, you. Tell Scabbard there's something that needs scouting-'

'Like what?' said Suzuki.

'Doesn't matter. Something minor that we can be, uh, ambushed from. I'll put together a team to investigate and we can just not come back. Fix the bike coms to shut down so Scabbard thinks we're all dead.'

'And what about the people who aren't soldiers?' said Ninja tartly.

'Meet at Honda's Cross later that night. Think you can all get out of the camp? Who's on sentry that night? Show hands, people...' Two mice put their hands up.

'And four others, Stoke, it's gonna be hard,' said Savage.

'It always was gonna be hard. Can anyone think of any other way?' No-one could. 'Right. We have nothing to lose except our freedom and the future of our planet.'

Eighteen bikes on silent running were slipped between the two rebel sentries. Occasionally a child would start mewling and everyone would freeze… but nothing happened, and then everyone would begin to breathe again. Savage shushed Ninja's bike through and hissed, 'Are you the last?'

'Yeah,' she whispered. 'See you there.' And the pale figure vanished into the darkness.

'Savage,' said a voice behind him and he almost had a heart attack. He swallowed and turned around.

'Sir.'

'I take it you will no longer be with us tomorrow,' said Scabbard quietly. Savage said nothing. 'There's no place for traitors in my army.' Savage thought this ironic, considering, but he let Scabbard continue. 'So go. And when you see that bastard Stoker give him a message from me.'

'Sir?'

'Tell him that as far as this army's concerned you're all dead.'

'I… I don't know what to say,' said Savage. 'Thankyou.'

'Don't thank me. I wash my hands of the lot of you. Now go. You're not in this army anymore.'

Savage looked over Scabbard's shoulder at the other sentry, Kawasaki. She looked stunned. But she met his gaze, he nodded and they followed the others into the night.

_Two months later_

The battle was going badly for the Army, trapped in the open with nowhere to hide. Already many of their best had gone down and the medics were stretched to their limit. Scabbard turned to order the retreat but realised they were cut off by fire and there was nowhere to go.

Suddenly there was a boom, and the nearest stilt walker exploded. Another followed it, and another - the soldiers threw themselves on the ground as red-hot metal arced through the air at head height and smashed on the rocks. And then there was silence. But only for a moment, before the air was filled with the sound of bike engines and shouting and the battlefield was full of bikes.

'Stoker,' said Scabbard. 'You're supposed to be dead.'

'Yeah, well, I've come back from the dead before. Sorry we were late. Didn't lose too many, I hope?'

'A few.'

'Huh.' Stoker called over his shoulder. 'Flare, you got backup medics?'

'Way ahead of you, Stoke!' called Flare.

'Well, you heard the lady,' said Stoker. 'Your survivors should be OK. And we had to save your hide. You getting careless, Scabbard?'

'No,' said Scabbard.

'Oh, yeah, I forgot, only following orders. Well, those following your orders are lucky we're here.'

'Why the hell are you doing this?'

'Got to look after your own, right?'

'You aren't our own any more.'

'Nope. I'm not. But we're on the same side and you got a lot of people my people care about. So I guess we've got to watch your fool back if you won't do it for yourself.' Scabbard said nothing, so Stoker shrugged and went off to help the medics. 'Think about it, Scabbard,' he called over his shoulder. 'We might not be here next time...'

_Eighteen years ago_

Silver came in from the clinic looking stunned, a hand on her stomach. Her boyfriend took her gently by the shoulders, concerned.

'You OK, hon?' he said. 'Silver, what did they say? Is everything OK?'

Silver looked at him with glowing eyes. 'Tommy,' she said. 'Everything's just fine!'

Tommy looked confused. 'But you were so sick - how can everything be fine?'

She took his hands and looked searchingly into his face. 'You love me, don't you?' she said.

'Yes,' said Tommy. 'Of course I do. Why? Is it something serious?'

'Oh, Tommy - Ah'm pregnant!' There was silence. The brilliant smile melted from Silver's face. 'What? Don't you think it's great?'

'Silvie... no... you're too young... _I'm_ too young...'

'You don't want it,' sobbed Silver.

'I... just not yet, it's too soon, Silvie, c'mon, we're eighteen years old, I can't do this!'

'Ah'm not getting rid of it, Tommy.'

Tommy swallowed. 'I... I'll stay.'

Silver looked carefully at his face. 'No. No, you won't,' she said coldly. 'You're too scared.'

_Nine months later_

Silver lay in the medibay bed with a baby on each arm, talking to her mother.

'Well, momma, how come daddies in this family all turn out to be rats?' she said.

'Mah daddy wasn't no rat,' said Flare. 'An' if Modo ever gets to be a daddy, he won't be a rat neither. 'Cause your momma didn't raise no rat, right, Modo?'

'Right, Momma,' said Modo obediently. 'Whatcha gonna call 'em, Silvie?'

'The girl's Primer,' said Silver, 'an' the boy's Rimfire. And he ain't gonna be no rat either, are you, Rimfire, no, you're gonna be a proper gentlemouse and your momma's gonna be proud.'

'That's my girl,' said Flare. She scruffed Modo's hair, smiling. 'We know how to raise 'em in this family, don't we?'

_Seventeen years ago_

The bomb blast took out a whole street. Sixteen people died instantly, nine were injured, four escaped. In the aftermath, the survivors were brought to the medibay for treatment, and Stoker came here for the first report.

'We're treatin' Dart, Kukhri and Colt for shock,' said Flare. 'Blue we're a lil' bit worried 'bout but she seems to be a tougher kid than most. Ah just wish more of these were that tough...'

'Who've we got to worry about here?' said Stoker.

'Blade, Diesel and Stiletto should all be fine. Superficial injuries. Throttle needs stitches but he should pull through as well. The only trouble is, his only surviving relative is on the danger list.'

'The hell?' Stoker snatched at the comp-pad in Flare's hand. 'I thought that kid had a mother and two brothers.'

'He did. Angel and Pitch're both in the morgue. There's just Yammer and Throttle left now and Yammer's got quite a fight ahead of him.'

_One week later_

Stoker hated this part. The kid was six, for god's sake, it just wasn't fair that he should have gone from being the youngest in a large family to being the sole surviving member. And Stoker had to tell him.

There was a knock on the door. Stoker sighed. 'Come in, kiddo.'

The child was small and light brown, with one arm still bandaged up. Stoker had expected him to look scared or sad, but he just looked tired.

'So... you're Throttle,' said Stoker.

'Yessir Mister Stoker sir,' said Throttle.

Stoker almost smiled. 'Cute. How're you feeling, kid?'

Throttle shrugged. 'I dunno. My arm itches. Flare said I wasn't to scratch it or I'd get something horrible.'

'And she's right.' Stoker pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. 'I am so not good at doing this... Sit down, Throttle. I've... I've gotta tell you where your mom and your brothers have gone.'

'I know that,' said Throttle.

Wonderful, thought Stoker. Precocious, self-possessed and possibly brought up in some weird religion too. Why do I never get a textbook case? Aloud, he said, 'Yeah? Where do you think they've gone?'

'They're dead,' said Throttle matter-of-factly. 'The stinkfish took 'em. Mom said once if she went away that'd be what happened. An' she might be able to see me so I gotta be good.'

'Yeeesss...' said Stoker, remembering how practical Angel had been and also thinking that he liked this kid.

'An' Yammer said I wasn't to worry but I had to give 'em hell from him.'

Stoker almost choked on his laughter. That sounded like Yammer alright. He couldn't let this kid be brought up in the nurseries. 'Hey, kid, sounds like you've got it nailled. Well, since your house got blasted by the stinkfish I guess I'd better take care of you instead. And I'll make sure you can do your mom and daddy and brothers proud. OK?'

_The following day_

When Flare reported to Stoker, bringing Modo with her, she wasn't entirely surprised to see that Throttle was still there.

'Ah thought you'd like that kid,' she said. 'Here, Modo, you an' Throttle go play. Ah'm gonna talk to Uncle Stoker.'

Stoker watched the two six-year-olds playing in the empty training yard and said, 'I guess I just need someone to continue my legacy.'

'Hah, yeah, eternal loudmouth,' said Flare. 'Well, If Ah know Angel, you'll do a good job with her youngest or she'll chuck down a lightning bolt from the sky and singe all the fur off'f your ass.'

'You honestly think I could do a bad job?'

'With Throttle? Quite possibly. Just watch it, alright?'

'Yeah.' Stoker glanced over to where Throttle and Modo were chasing each other round the yard. 'Yeah, I'll watch it.'

_Sixteen years ago_

Stoker sighted along the barrel of the gun, fired and the centre of the target blossomed in red paint. He grinned and handed the paint gun down to Throttle. 'OK, kid, now, you have a go.'

Throttle aimed carefully, chewing his lip with concentration, and fired. With a _splat_ the top of the target and some of the wall above it was suddenly covered in red.

'Not bad,' said Stoker. 'You got the target. Try again. This time you gotta get the bullseye.'

'I thought Modo was gonna be here,' said Throttle. 'You said we was both gonna get gun lessons today.'

'Yeah, I did, and Modo's late. So that means you get a little opportunity to get better than him, right?'

Throttle fired, and again hit the wall above the target, as the door opened to admit Flare and Modo.

'Hi, guys. Throttle, you're pulling high, you gotta make up for any pulls on your gun.' Then Stoker noticed Flare's face. 'Flare? You OK, sweetie?'

'Yeah,' said Flare. 'Just tired. We got a problem blaster burn; Ah'm not sure how she's gonna do.'

'Oh. I'm... I'm sorry. Modo, kid, your gun's on the table, Throttle'll show you how to load it and then you bring it here and we'll see if he's remembered right.' Stoker turned back to Flare, who looked like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. 'Listen, babe, you might be head medic around here but all this ain't your fault.'

'Yeah, Ah know,' sighed Flare. 'Ah just wish this girl Ninja was healthy enough so Ah could slap her thick head an' tell her it's not yours, either.'

'Ninja?'

'Yeah. The pale one with the kid brother.'

'Hey, I know who Ninja is. How the hell could I forget?' Stoker swore under his breath. 'And the kid, how's he?'

'Vinnie? Last Ah saw him he was runnin' around in the hospital creche yellin' that he was gonna be the biggest an' fastest an' meanest mouse in the universe. Looked just fine to me. Reminded me of you.'

'Yeah, well, I'm the biggest, fastest, meanest mouse in the universe _right now_,' said Stoker, but his heart wasn't really in it. 'You keep me posted on Ninja, OK?'

'Oh, she informed me in no uncertain terms that she wants you posted whether you like it or not. That girl got a grudge, Stoker - watch your back.'

_The following day_

Stoker looked down at the girl in the hospital bed. She was dying, a mass of drips and wires and had asked to see him so he was here, but he wasn't looking forward to this. Twenty-one. That was no age to die.

'I'm sorry, Ninja, sweetie,' he murmured.

'Damn straight,' whispered Ninja. 'Some future _this _turned out to be.'

'Yeah. I guess I let you down, huh?'

'Oh, hell yeah.' She started coughing, and blood stained fur that used to be so pristine white. 'But... but I'm gonna give you another chance.'

'Yeah?' said Stoker hopelessly.

'My kid brother's gonna get a future offa you or I come back and haunt you to yer grave.' She subsided, gasping, and Stoker gaped at her.

'_You _want _me_ to look after Vinnie?'

'Yeah. You're a low-down dirty sonova rat but you're doin' OK by that other kid. To second chances, huh?'

'Uh... yeah. To second chances,' said Stoker, even though there was nothing to toast with.

'Now get lost. And remember, I'm gonna be watching you...'

'Hey, kid, you happy?' asked Stoker as soon as he got in.

'Huh? Yeah,' said Throttle. He was lying on his belly on the floor with a toy bike in each hand, and a ring of more toys around him.

'What did you do today?'

'Me an' Modo did some more gun practice an' I got more bullseyes than him. And then we had school an' Aprilia said we gotta start bike care next year.'

'Yeah? Anything else?'

Throttle made a face. 'She said you said I gotta start el'mentry tactics _this_ year. Why've I gotta do that?'

'Hey, you wanna be the leader of the pack one day, you gotta learn a few things.'

'What pack?' said Throttle sulkily. 'It's just Modo 'n' me, we're not a _pack_.'

'Hey, little more respect there, rookie,' said Stoker. 'How do you know I ain't got a solution to your troubles?'

'I _don't_ gotta start tactics?' said Throttle hopefully.

Stoker laughed. 'Nice try, no joy. Still... you want a brother?'

'Yeah! Oh, man, that'd be so cool!'

'Great. You know Vinnie?'

'The white kid who won't shut up? Oh.' Throttle looked distinctly underwhelmed. 'He's just a baby.'

'He's just a coupla years younger'n you and he's got nobody left in the world but you and me.' Stoker hunkered down beside Throttle and put an arm around his shoulders. 'So you do me a favour and be real nice to him. Make him welcome. You promise?'

'I never said I didn't _like_ him, Stoke,' said Throttle.

'Yeah, I know. But I still want you to promise.'

'Stoke... have I gotta share my room now?'

'Fraid so, rookie, welcome to the real world. Promise...'

Throttle sighed heavily, then turned back to his bikes. 'Sure. I promise.'

NEXT CHAPTER COMING SOON...


	3. Chapter 3

Author's notes: OK, another early update, mostly because I may as well get this out before the end of the year. Stoker is now forty-four, Flare fifty-two, Throttle and Modo thirteen and Vinnie eleven. Incidentally, my mind has got used to the idea of Modo being married to a mouse called Blue, and this is now the third story I have started with this character mentioned. I see no reason to change the name. Also, I don't know how old Carbine was supposed to be. I think she's older than Throttle. Anyone know otherwise?

Lots of love to y'all, hope you like the finished result. Happy new year!

BROTHERS IN ARMS: PART THREE

_Ten years ago_

'Stoker, message from Sergeant Scabbard!'

Stoker swore and pulled up short on his way across the yard. 'The hell? Fazer, can't this wait?'

'Sorry, Stoke, he's actually sent a messenger this time and she says she's gotta be back by sunset.'

Stoker cursed again and stamped across to the partially open hut which, apart from the hospital, was the only part of the Freedom Fighters' base that any of the Army had so far been allowed to see. Just because you were on the same side didn't mean you had to be foolishly trusting.

'Right,' he said, slamming the door behind him. 'What is it this time? And make it quick. Oh.'

The girl was a stranger, younger than the messengers had normally been, neatly dressed and very surprised. She was standing beside her bike holding her helmet in front of her like a defensive weapon.

'Sergeant Stoker?' she said.

'Yeah,' said Stoker. 'It's OK, kid, I'm not gonna bite you.'

The girl carefully hung her helmet on her handlebars. 'Sorry.'

'No, my fault. Most of Scabbard's messengers're used to me by now. How old are you, kid?'

'Sixteen. Don't you need to know who I am?'

'Sixteen, sixteen... You're Vigor's girl, aren't you? Carbine?'

The girl blinked. 'That's very impressive.'

'Not really - ten years ago I can only remember one other six-year-old girl with brown fur and black hair who stayed behind. Didn't Mantra lose an arm a couple of years ago?'

'Yessir. She was one of the unlucky ones,' said Carbine stiffly. 'A lot more just died.'

'So I hear. So, what's the message?'

'Our water supply has been halved this time. Scabbard says that we can live if you don't help us, but only just and it will be very hard for everybody.'

'Yeah? You got the supply figures?'

Carbine handed Stoker an electronic pad. He contemplated it for a while and said, 'And what makes him think we're in any better shape here?'

Carbine shrugged. 'Hope. And...'

'Yeah?'

'Well, he said, "Stoker might be a bastard but he's a resourceful bastard and at least he isn't a rat."'

Stoker laughed, startling the girl. 'You think he wanted you to tell me that? No, don't answer that. Well, you go back and tell Scabbard that we've got it bad too but since I'm not a rat I'll get our own figures and talk to my people and we'll see what we can do.'

Carbine smiled. 'Thankyou, sir. You have no idea-'

'Oh, I don't, do I? And I'm not sir, I'm Stoker. You're what, Cadet Carbine?'

'Usually.'

'Well, clear off, Cadet, go tell Scabbard we'll do our best.'

_Nine years ago_

Stoker looked around the Army training yard. There had been changes - more damage, for one thing, and none of the faces he had passed on the way here were as he remembered them.

'Love what you've done with the old place, Scabbard,' he said. Scabbard ignored him, and instead addressed the lanky teenager at Stoker's side.

'Throttle - my, how you've grown.'

'Yeah. It's kinda normal,' muttered Throttle, hands in his pockets. Stoker whacked him round the back of the head.

'Hey, rookie, what did I tell you about respect?'

'But Stoke, you said-'

'Never mind what I said. You want people to think I never taught you anything?' Throttle subsided, muttering, and Stoker grinned at Scabbard. 'Teenagers. Can't live with 'em, can't shove 'em in a lava pit till they learn sense. So, you wanted to train 'em together today? Why?'

'Just interested in the rising generation, that's all,' said Scabbard. 'You took about half the Army's children with you when you left.'

'Yeah. All that talk of hope for the future, it kinda gets to people. So where's _your_ rising generation?'

Scabbard raised a com speaker and said, 'Send in Corporal Carbine, please.'

Stoker's eyebrows shot up. 'Corporal? The girl's what, seventeen?'

'Our rising generation is rising fast.'

The door opened and Carbine entered, not much changed from the first time she and Stoker had met except for the pips on her shoulder and the air of confidence and efficiency. Stoker glanced at Throttle, then nudged him. He stopped staring.

'Sir,' said Carbine, then turned to Stoker. 'Hello Si... I mean, Stoker. And you must be Throttle?'

'Uh, yeah. Hi.'

Stoker bit his lip, trying not to laugh. He could feel Throttle's embarrassment from here and it really wasn't funny, but - yes, it was funny. Throttle had been trying to act cool lately, and had mostly just been annoying Vinnie and Modo. Stoker gave in and handed him a dart gun.

'OK, let's get started. Target practice.'

'Oh, _Stoke_ - you know I never miss!' said Throttle. Carbine just rolled her eyes but strapped her gun to her leg. Scabbard whistled and the two bikes parked at the end of the yard started up.

'This time,' he said, 'You're trying to make each other miss. First one to get all twenty targets wins. Come on, Stoker.'

Stoker and Scabbard retreated behind a clear screen to watch the action. Throttle got the first two targets without a problem, Carbine got the first four.

'So,' said Stoker. 'How 'bout we fess up and admit what we're really doing here?'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' said Scabbard. Throttle got another two targets, then Carbine drove close beside him and the next shot pinged off the screen.

'Carbine's your student. Throttle's mine. They're not training together. This is a competition.'

'Oh, right. Yes. And why not? It'll be good for them.'

Carbine was seven shots ahead of Throttle and her strategy was clear now - every time he aimed she brushed close or smiled or tossed her hair and his shot went wide. Stoker cursed silently. Aloud, he said, 'They're not in competition. Hey, what if they are, maybe they are. But so are we.'

There was a silence from Scabbard, then he said, 'If you say so. But it looks like my girl's winning.' And it did. Carbine fired, hit and stopped.

'Twenty!' she said. 'Throttle?'

Throttle counted. 'Eleven,' he mumbled.

'Yeah,' said Stoker. 'And next time he'll know better than to let that kind of dirty trick work on him again.'

_Eight years ago_

It was Vinnie's thirteenth birthday and he was being taken to choose his first bike, the bike he would learn to ride on. He entered the garage and was overwhelmed by the sound of engines, the scrape of metal on metal, the squeal of cutting torches and so many voices - mechanics, people talking to their bikes, people talking about bikes and weapons and everything technological.

'Looking for someone, kid?' said a woman in overalls, wiping her hands on an oily cloth.

'Yeah - Stoker sent me to find Flash.'

'Oh, right, well, he's teaching at the moment. Can I give him a message?'

'I'm gettin' a learner bike today.'

The woman smiled. 'Oh, I _see_ - happy birthday. Vinnie, isn't it?'

'That's me.'

'I'm Valkyrie. Call me Val. Hm, well, I daresay Flash wouldn't mind being interrupted for a birthday bike. Follow me.'

The first they saw of Flash and his student was two antennaed heads, one blond, the other light brown, on the other side of a yellow adventure tourer.

'OK, now to replace the wheel,' Flash was saying. 'Here, you do it. Remember what I told you?'

'Hey, Flash, someone to see you,' said Val.

Flash looked up, annoyed. 'Can't you see I'm busy?'

'Too busy for a birthday bike?'

Flash met Vinnie's eyes. 'Oh. Oh, well, then. In that case...' He patted his student, a pretty girl of about twelve, on the shoulder. 'Sorry, Harley, we'll have to finish this tomorrow. Off you go.' Harley ran off and Flash turned back to Val. 'OK, Val, I'll take it from here.'

'See you, then. Have a good birthday, Vinnie.'

When Val had gone, Flash said, 'Vinnie, Vinnie... you're Stoker's youngest.'

Vinnie shrugged. 'Stoke's not my dad.'

'I guess he's not, but round here family's where you find it. You could do worse than Stoker and Throttle. He's been in here with that Modo kid doing battle bike training, both of 'em seem alright. Anyway, you don't want a battle bike yet. The others are through here.'

Flash opened a roll-up door into another room filled with bikes. Since these were the training bikes, and a mouse usually moved on to an AI-enabled battle bike after a couple of years, none of these were new, but all of them were well cared for and in perfect working order. The instant a bike could no longer be kept completely reliable it was dismantled for its parts and scrap metal.

'So, birthday boy,' said Flash. 'Take your pick.'

Vinnie walked around the bikes, eyes wide. Eventually he turned to Flash and said, 'Which one's fastest?'

Flash burst out laughing. 'You realise seventy per cent of boys ask me that? You want the hyperbikes. Over there.' He waved a hand at a cluster of bikes built like rockets. 'We've got two with a top speed of 250mph but if you want my opinion?'

'I... OK then.'

'You want the Samurai ZZR. That black one. Top speed 230mph but much better handling than the Bolt 20K.'

Vinnie looked at the bike Flash was pointing at. It had been repaired a couple of times but was otherwise a beautiful machine. He nodded. 'Yeah, OK. That one.'

'Well done, kid. I'll bring it round to Stoker's tomorrow morning, shall I? In time for first lesson?'

'Sure. Thanks.'

'You're welcome. Congratulations. And happy birthday.'

_Seven years ago_

It was sure to happen eventually. So far the only ones to be taught personally and regularly by Stoker were Throttle and Vinnie, because he was bringing them up; and Modo, because Flare and her children were practically part of this mismatched family now. But one of the trainers was reporting a problem student, who wouldn't be disciplined and wouldn't be taught.

'Sounds like prime Freedom Fighter material to me,' said Stoker, when he heard.

'But she's disrupting the class,' said the tutor. 'She's... arrogant. Says we're underestimating her. Keeps picking fights.'

'Hmph. Maybe she is a problem student, then. So _are_ you underestimating her, Beamer?'

Beamer gestured wildly. 'I don't know! Maybe we are - she's certainly talented in some areas. But she has no concept of teamwork. She keeps saying she can rely on herself.'

'Who's her family?'

'Her mother died in childbirth. Her father was captured just over four years ago and is still missing. She's been a disruptive element in the nurseries ever since - twelve is far too old to go into the nurseries, I've always said. But there was nothing else to do.'

'Yeah... OK, I'll have a look at her. I'll bring the boys, if she's as disruptive as you say they ought to know.'

The girl was standing in the middle of the training yard with four targets around her and a dart gun in each hand. As Stoker and his students watched, she fired in quick succession behind her, in front, to either side, to right angles, to the opposite right angle - she hit bullseye every time. She had fur the colour of slate, her short hair was so black it had blue lights in it and her eyes were hard and dark as sapphires.

'Blue, right?' said Stoker.

'Yeah,' said the girl, firing into each target in quick succession.

'You wanna stop practicing and talk to us?'

'Nope.' She crossed her arms behind her head and fired into the target behind her.

'What's up, kid, I ain't done nuthin' to you.'

'Right. You ain't done nuthin' for me, either.'

'What's up with _her_!' muttered Throttle, coughing to cover the sudden peak of his voice. Modo's voice had broken a year ago and now it was Throttle's turn; he had been trying to say as little as possible to Carbine for the past month.

'You're a good shot, ma'am,' said Modo.

Blue spared him a cursory glance. 'Yeah,' she said. 'I am.'

'Beamer says you want a challenge, kid,' said Stoker. Blue stopped shooting and appeared to listen for the first time.

'You think you can teach me something?' she said.

'Well, I dunno. We can try. You gotta agree to learn, though.'

'Hey, you can teach me something and I will listen till the ducks come home.'

'Good. In that case we just gotta decide if we need you or not. Guys?'

Stoker turned to the boys. Throttle looked surprised, opened his mouth, shut it again and nodded.

'She's pretty, she's welcome,' said Vinnie, grinning. Blue snorted.

'Uh, yeah,' said Modo uncertainly. 'Sure. Great.'

'Well, that nails it,' said Stoker. 'Welcome to the class, Blue. Hope you're up to it.'

In the Army barracks, Scabbard went through the proposed manouver, the positions lighting up on the board behind him.

'You can't be serious,' said Carbine when he'd finished. 'We'll be massacred.'

'Sergeant, these are our orders,' said Scabbard stiffly.

'Yes, but they don't make sense! I mean, look at this, if we come in from here we'll be trapped in this valley with the Plutarkian guns here, here and here, no cover and no retreat! Do you think they'll hold their fire out of _pity_?'

'Sergeant Carbine! We obey orders!'

'But-'

'We obey!'

Carbine subsided. She knew she'd have to tell Stoker about this, and she hated doing that. She was starting to lose count of the number of times the Freedom Fighters had come in and covered the Army's back.

_Six years ago_

The shouting could be heard inside the medibay long before the source of the voice actually entered.

'_Put me down, you idiot, I can walk, you know I can walk, you-_' There was a short silence, then a barrage of screamed abuse and the door opened revealing a mangled and deeply unwilling Blue in the arms of Modo, who looked almost scared of his load.

'Well, we know she's alive,' murmured Machete to Flare. 'I'll deal with this, honey. You can kill her later for calling your son those names.' Flare fled, and Machete marched up to the patient. 'So, what happened?'

'Bike crash,' said Modo. 'She was-'

'Hey, I _can_ talk!' snapped Blue.

'We know,' said Machete blandly. 'Well?'

'Racing Vinnie,' said Blue sulkily. 'Hit a patch of oil. Make him put me down, I can walk.'

'Not on that leg you can't. Looks to me like a break. You're not being independant, you're being _stupid_. This way, Modo.' Machete stalked off down the hall.

'Woah,' said Blue. 'Takes no prisoners, does she?'

Modo didn't reply, just followed and laid Blue carefully on the bed where Machete pointed. The medic ran an X-ray gun over Blue's leg and nodded. 'Fractured femur. We'll put a cast on it and you'll have to stay here for a while, heaven help us.'

'Sorry Blue,' said Modo. 'You're gonna have to let someone care 'bout you for once.'

Blue sighed heavily. 'Daddy would hate to see me like this.'

'You think so?' said Machete. 'Your father would rather you were cured, my girl. Modo, can you make sure she doesn't escape while I get my kit?'

'Uh, sure, ma'am,' said Modo. Machete strode out, leaving them alone.

'One of the things my daddy told me before he left was always to make sure I could rely on myself,' said Blue.

'Yeah, but he didn't mean you had to stop relyin' on anyone else at all.'

'Easy for you to say. _You've_ got family. People who care about you.'

'Yeah, but...' Modo stopped.

'What?'

'Well, Ah was gonna say you got people that care about you too.'

'And you didn't because you know I haven't.'

'No. Cuz you have.'

'Oh, yeah? Who?'

'Yeah, that's why Ah didn't wanna say it. Ah didn't want you to ask me that.'

Blue propped herself up on her elbow with a little difficulty and stared at him. He didn't meet her eyes. 'Well, Modo, I had no idea.'

'Yeah, well, now you do.'

'Yeah. Um. Well, alright then, I'll do you a deal. I will stay here in this medibay and be as good as gold until the medics say I can go. But.'

'But?'

'But you have to come and visit me _every_ day. Promise?'

Modo looked startled, but Blue was smiling. After a moment he smiled back. 'Yeah,' he said. 'Ah promise.'

_Five years ago_

'Well, who'da thunk it?' said Vinnie while they waited in the mess hall with the rest of the guests.

'_I'd_ have thunk it,' replied Throttle. 'Could be the saving of them both. She needs someone to take care of her but he needs someone who won't let him wrap her in cotton wool.'

'Yeah, I guess. Could also be a match made in hell, though.'

Throttle thought about it. Modo and Blue had been inseperable for nearly a year now and then he had proposed just after Blue's eighteenth birthday and had gone around with a silly grin for a month when she accepted.

'Nah,' he said. 'Not this one.'

'If you say so, bro. Hey, here they come.'

Blue and Modo entered the hall from opposite doors, both looking happy, nervous and very clean. The water shortage had meant that the washing away of the former life had had to be done with dry cleansers, but the meaning was the same. They met in the middle of a ring of people, as many witnesses as could be found - there were even a few people from the Army here. Stoker patted them both on the shoulder and said, 'Right, then, we're here, we can start. Ahem. Ladies and gentlemice, all of us here have come to witness the marriage of Modo and Blue. We are here so that everyone can say that we saw, and we heard, and we know what they said to each other here. Because while we are at war, the safest place for the records of family and friends are in our hearts and minds. One day maybe we will be able to write their names together for eternity, but for now we will watch, so we can tell our children that we were here and it was so. Modo and Blue.'

There was silence for a moment, then Modo spoke. 'Blue. The universe is a big, lonely place an' it don't care how much you get hurt. You been livin' most of your life by that but now you don't gotta cuz Ah care an' Ah love you an' Ah'll protect you till Ah ain't got breath to raise mah head. Ah remember when you tole me you couldn't rely on anyone but yourself. When the day comes when you can't rely on me no more that should be the same day Ah die. Ah don't know what the future'll bring an' Ah'm not perfect. All Ah can offer you is the best that Ah can be fer the rest of both our lives.'

In the crowd of watchers, Flare started to sob gently. Blue bit her lip and, after a couple of false starts, replied. 'Oh, Modo... If my daddy could see me today - who knows, maybe he can - he would be so proud that I've found a mouse like you. As far as I'm concerned you _are_ perfect. But this universe is a terrible place and I will protect you to the hilt and beyond, and if anyone tries to hurt you in any way they'll have to cut me down to get to you. Yeah, I can rely on myself. You can rely on me too. Till the bitter end, I swear. I'm not perfect either, but I'll do my best and if your faith in me turns out to be misplaced then I may as well be dead. The future's uncertain, but I'm pretty sure I'll always love you.'

'Love means a lot of things,' said Stoker. 'It means taking the good with the bad. Do you understand?'

'Yes,' said Modo and Blue together.

'It means that you must protect them but you must also let them fight for themselves. Do you understand?'

'Yes.'

'It means being there when they need you, a family even without blood ties, a home for eternity. Do you understand?'

'Yes.'

'Then we have all seen and heard, all here know that Blue and Modo were two, now they're one, and may their road always be easy. Ride free!'

And as the crowd erupted in a deafening cheer of 'Ride free!', Modo swept Blue into his arms and kissed her.

_Four years ago_

The sound of gunfire filled the air; the Freedom Fighters had joined the Army to defend Dark Lake Cave but they were being beseiged by Sand Raiders from the front, rats from both sides and Plutarkians from above. The only escape was into the cave itself and that would lead the enemy straight to the lake.

Blue's bike screeched to a halt beside Stoker's and she yelled, 'We're getting hammered, Stoke! We have to get rid of that destroyer!'

Stoker looked up at the menacing bulk of the main Plutarkian gunship. 'You think you can get a platoon up there, girl?'

'I can give it a shot!'

'OK, Stoker to all double-Fs - Blue's platoon, up to the destroyer any way you can, take out those guns but don't bring the damn thing down on the lake! Modo, Throttle, you deal with the rats!'

'What about me, Coach?' said Vinnie drawing up on Stoker's other side. It was only his second battle with any level of command but he'd crowed about the last one for weeks.

'You, Punk? You'n me're gonna make gravel of these Sand Raiders. Everybody move!'

The battle raged on and gradually the rats and Sand Raiders started to retreat. Overhead there were a series of small explosions and then soldiers from all sides had to run for cover as the guns started to drop off the destroyer, which turned and headed off into the distance.

'Blue!' yelled Modo.

'Modo, duck!' shouted Dart. Modo ducked as a compact missile just missed his head and exploded in the cliff face behind him. He returned to the fight and eventually the enemy was driven off.

'Home, and don't spare the horses!' called Stoker.

'No - we gotta find Blue's platoon!' said Modo.

'Yeah, and for that we're gonna need a ship! Can your bike fly off world? Cuz mine sure as hell can't.'

The rescue ship went out once, it went out twice and then Stoker declared the mission useless.

'You can't do that,' snarled Modo.

'I can,' said Stoker.

'Fer all you know she might be alive. We c'n find her!'

'Her and ten others, Modo. Your wife got one rescue mission more than anyone else would get - we're at war here, son, we can't chase the lost forever.' For a moment Modo looked as though he might knock Stoker's head off, but Stoker just looked him steadily in the face and he sighed and sat down.

'Ah said Ah'd protect her till Ah dropped.'

'I'm sorry, Modo. If she's still alive she's gonna have to protect herself this time. We did our best. You did your best.'

Modo glared at him. 'No. Ah didn't,' he said, and strode out of the room.

'Ah, hell...' muttered Stoker. He picked up the com. 'Flare, your boy's on a suicide course, can you stop him?'

Flare caught up with Modo outside the bike shed. 'Modo, you stop right there!'

'Gonna stop me bringin' mah wife home, Momma?' said Modo.

'Ah'm gonna stop you killin' yourself. Come on, son, tell me Ah didn't raise no dummy!'

'Ah dunno, but if you did it ain't your fault. You think it's stupid to think Blue's alive?'

Flare hesitated. The next words came carefully, aware of the fragility of the situation. 'Modo... sweetie... suppose she is alive. If everyone's OK, she's got her whole platoon helpin' her an' she'll be home. She'd hate you to get yourself killed fer her.'

Modo smiled bitterly. 'Ah ain't gonna get mahself killed, Momma,' he said, and vanished into the bike shed. Flare was about to follow, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

'Let him go,' said Throttle. 'He's just gotta be by himself, maybe bust a few rat faces. He'll be fine.'

'How can you be sure?' said Flare.

Throttle shrugged. 'Can't. But he's got a tracer on his bike and in his helmet and if Vinnie'n'me'll keep watch. We'll go get him if we have to. But I don't think we'll have to.'

They didn't have to. Modo came home with blood in his fur and his bike dented and spent the whole night making repairs, polishing it to a brilliant finish and speaking to no-one. He went out on longer and longer trips, went longer and longer without speaking to anyone and got less and less sleep.

Eventually Throttle and Vinnie ambushed him in the bike shed. His bike was already perfect but he kept cleaning it and repairing it, as though a perfect bike would bring Blue home.

'I know all bikes like a bit of TLC but I think all this polishing's starting to get on her nerves,' said Vinnie conversationally.

'What do you guys want?' said Modo without looking up.

'Stoke said he was gonna have to find a new team leader,' said Throttle.

'So let him.'

'We don't want him to,' said Vinnie. 'C'mon, bro, _we're_ a team. Or we were.'

'Blue would really hate to see you like this,' said Throttle. That got a reaction.

Modo jumped to his feet and yelled in his face, 'Don't you _dare_ talk 'bout Blue to me!'

'Woah, woah big fella, cool it! Just worried about you, that's all.'

'Yeah, your mom says you're losin' weight,' said Vinnie. 'Heard her sayin' somethin' 'bout puttin' you on sleepers. I know you been up later'n me every night this week.'

'Bad dreams, bro?' said Throttle.

Modo sagged, defeated. 'No. The dreams Ah c'n handle, it's the wakin's the killer.'

'Stoke thinks you blame him.'

Modo shrugged. 'Hey, he went back twice. Most people only get the one time an' we ain't _got _that much time round here.'

'Right,' said Vinnie. 'So why're you wastin' yours?' Throttle shot him a dirty look but Vinnie continued regardless. 'You're throwin' your life away, bro - you know what I'm scared of? I'm gonna die one day an' get to heaven an' your woman's gonna whup my tail for lettin' you go off the road. I was lookin' forward to the afterlife but you're makin' sure me an' Throttle get hell wherever we go, cuz if I know Blue she's gonna find us.'

Modo stared at him, then at Throttle, who shrugged. 'You gotta admit he's got a point. There's gonna be a notice up in all the places we could go: "If Whiteass and Crazyface, AKA Vincent and Throttle, show up here, send them to Blue for interrogation. Possible reward."

Modo snorted. 'Ah never did find out why she called you Crazyface,' he said.

'Trying to make me laugh,' said Throttle.

'Yeah, well, she was just tryin' to piss me off,' said Vinnie. '"Whiteass" - huh!'

Throttle put an arm around Modo's shoulders. 'Listen, Modo, we all miss Blue. Come on, we'll go to the mess hall and get a few drinks, talk a few memories. Or if the mess hall's too public there's our place. But you can't sit around going crazy by yourself.'

'Yeah,' said Vinnie. 'Let us help, we can all go crazy. Sounds like much better fun.'

'Vincent?' said Throttle wearily. 'Shut up. Well, bro? You coming? Worth a shot.'

Modo sighed. 'Yeah,' he said. 'Ah guess it is.'

AND YOU KNOW THE REST...


End file.
